


Are You Sure?

by Colorfullyminded



Category: Maggot Boy
Genre: And I love Bastian/PJ, I love Bastian, I promise, I would hope that people know what's coming, It's maggot boy, M/M, Mention of Character Death, Mentions of Violence, Their shipname is BJ (I still can't fucking believe that), There needs to be more of them, They're so wholesome and sweet and their shipname is fucking BJ, and I'm quite proud, and now it's something else, anyway, but for the most part, i love it, in case you can't tell, in general, this idea literally started as meme, this story is actually really cute and fluffy and silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 14:51:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19175551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colorfullyminded/pseuds/Colorfullyminded
Summary: “I really like you. I don’t know how many times I can tell you, but since I can finally say it, I’ll keep saying it. I really, really like you Bastian.” PJ squeezes the older boy’s hands, smiling at him like he’s the best thing in the whole wide world.Bastian stares back at him, eyes wide, mouth slack. His palms feel clammy against Parker’s.He blinks, and stumbles over his words, as he looks down at the space between them. “Are you--are you sure about that?”





	Are You Sure?

“Hhhuuuuuu~”

  
  
Davey looks up from the Power Rangers episode he’s watching. _Had he heard that right? It sounded like a sigh._ He turns his head to the left, and downwards. Davey catches the flutter of hair falling back into place, as Parker Jones swivels his head back towards the TV, pretending to watch. Davey narrows his eyes, suspiciously, but slowly turns his attention back to the TV.

 

“Hmmm~”

 

Davey darts his eyes toward his little brother. PJ is staring intently at the TV screen, but his cheeks are distinctly more pink.

 

Davey glances back at the TV.

 

“Haaa~”

 

Davey doesn’t look.

 

“Heeeeheeeeeh~”

 

Davey doesn’t look.

 

 _“So cute~”_ his brother mutters, barely audible.

 

_Davey looks._

 

PJ is looking to  _his_ left _,_ completely unaware that he’s been caught in the act. He’s got a giddy look in his eyes, and a lovesick smile on his face. He releases another dreamy sigh.

 

Davey cranes his head up, looking at the person on the other side of PJ.

 

Bastian is staring wide eyed at the television, completely absorbed in what’s happening. He pulls another sour gummy worm out of the bag he’s hogging, stuffing it into his already full mouth. He looks like a squirrel, with his puffed out cheeks, or like a mother bird, as the gummy worms stick out between his lips.

 

Davey looks back at PJ, eyebrows raised. PJ finally turns his head back around, only to notice his brother is glaring at him. He turns bright red when he realizes he’s been caught. He grabs his red and white beanie, pulling it over his eyes, as if it can prevent Davey from looking at him, or make himself disappear.

 

“Seriously?” Davey says, low enough for only PJ to hear. As if it would matter; he could’ve shouted through a megaphone, and he doesn’t think Bastian would notice.

 

“Shhhhh!” PJ hisses, lifting his beanie back up. He glares up at Davey, scowling, even though he looks like he might burst into tears at any second. “Don’t say anything!” He continues to threaten.

 

Davey almost laughs; as if his brother could hurt him.

 

“Seriously, though? Bastian? My best friend Baz? That’s who’s got you all giggly?”

 

At the same time, Davey and PJ look back at Bastian, who is blissfully ignorant of their conversation.

 

“He’s cute, you just don’t get it,” PJ mutters under his breath.

 

Bastian stuffs another candy in his mouth, one too many. He chokes, coughing the half eaten worms up onto the carpet. He pounds his chest, burping, eyes watering. When he’s calmed himself, he looks up at the brothers. Now, he notices he’s being stared at, “Shi--Um, sorry guys! Whoops! I’ll clean that up! Hahaha!” He clumsily passes the bag towards PJ, and stands. He awkwardly walks over the mess, and heads into the kitchen to grab some paper towels.

 

Davey looks at PJ. PJ stares at the bag in his hand. He pulls a gummy worm out of the bag and eats it, looking so very happy about the fact that Bastian gave him the bag. For a second his face twist from the sour candy, but then it relaxes again. Another wistful sighs passes his lips.

 

Davey scrunches his nose up in disgust. _Seriously, Parker?_ Had they not seen the same thing unfold just now?

 

Davey shakes his head, turning back to the TV.

 

Whatever, PJ was 8. This was nothing more than a feeble crush; it would go away shortly.

 

\---

 

“Oh gosh, Micah! Hide me!” PJ cowers behind his best friend.

 

“Ummm, what?” Micah is not impressed.

 

“It’s, it’s gosh! It’s Bastian! I don’t. I don’t want him to notice me.”

 

“...Why?” Micah turns his head away from PJ, scanning the crowded hallway for the older boy.

 

“No! Stop! Don’t look!” PJ grabs Micah's head and swivels it away again.

 

“Ah! Jesus, Parker, are you trying to snap my neck? Let me go.” He shoos PJ’s hands away. He turns fully towards his friend, hands on his hips, glaring at the other boy. “Why are you acting so weird PJ? Just talk to him! It’s not like he’s going to bite, unless you’d like that?” Micah's lips curl into a mischievous smile.

 

“Shut up! Shut up!” PJ squawks, smacking Micah's arm. Micah does his best not to wince.

 

“See? You’re overreacting. Just talk to him, okay? If you just tell him how you feel, it’ll be fine.” Micah rolls his eyes. He loves his friend, really he does. But sometimes, like right now, he wants to kill him.

 

“No! No it won’t. I can’t talk to him! There’s no way I can do that!” Parker insists.

 

“And why’s that?”

  
  
“Because he’s way too cool, and way too hot, and way WAY TOO NICE! To bother with a dweeb like me.”

 

“That’s an oxymoron, you moron! If he’s so nice, then why wouldn’t he bother with you?” Micah glares at PJ.

 

PJ looks down at the floor, shuffling from foot to foot, unable to answer. He’s certain he’s right though.

 

 _Right then_ , Micah thinks, turning back around, scanning the crowd again.

 

He finds Bastian a couple rows down. He’s bending his arm back, trying desperately to lick his elbow, eyes crossed, while his friends laugh and egg him on.

 

Micah watches them, eyes wide in horror. He turns back towards PJ, his arm extended towards the group, his mouth hanging open.

 

“Stop pointing! Stop staring at me like that!” PJ grumbles, grabbing Micah’s arm, and forcing it down.

 

Micah rolls his eyes again. “You’re right Peej, he’s way too cool, and way too hot, and way WAY TOO NICE! To ever bother with a dweeb like you,” Micah drawls, sarcasm dripping like venom from his mouth.

 

PJ nods. “I told you,” he says, dejectedly.

 

Micah slaps his palm across his face.

 

There is absolutely nothing sexy, or cool about Bastian Nightingale.

 

And the next month, after Davey’s death, after Bastian ghosts PJ from his life, Micah thinks there’s nothing NICE about Bastian either.

 

He knows PJ can do better. He’s certain PJ will figure it out, eventually.

 

\---

 

“YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT HIM! HE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING! NOTHING! HOW COULD YOU, HOW DARE YOU!”

 

Owen looks at PJ’s snarling face, and then down at his shaking hands, as they press the gun against his chin.

 

“Oh boo hoo! What’s one more idiot gone from this shithole of a world? I did you a favor, kid! He’s an ugly dumbass, who probably would have broken your heart anyway!”

  
  
“SHUT UP! YOU DON’T KNOW HIM AT ALL! HE WAS THE NICEST, THE MOST PERFECT, The best…” PJ’s hands lower, and for a moment, Owen doesn’t feel the butt of the gun digging against his skin. Not that it actually hurts. “He was...we were finally going to talk again...after all this time...I was going to...I--I really liked him. I really-really loved--YOU PIECE OF SHIT! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!” He’s worked himself back into a rage, pushing the gun back in Owen’s face.

 

Owen looks at PJ, one eyebrow raised. Then he looks up at the stormy sky above, thinking back to the boy in question.

 

_He was stalking him. Quietly following behind him, as the boy walked home from practice. The Swiss knife bounced in Owen’s hoodie pocket, a constant reminder._

 

_It would be easy, so easy, to kill this boy. The boy had his headphones in, listening to the music on his phone. All Owen had to do was run up behind him, and drag him into a back alley---and that would be it. The boy would be dismembered within moments. Quicker than the boy could probably even realize what was happening. He didn't look like much of a thinker._

 

_Owen reached into his pocket, touching the Swiss army knife, contemplating his next move. Was he worth killing over? Would five victims be any different than four?_

  
_  
_ Probably not.

 

_Just then, the boy, who had been walking dangerously close to the edge of the sidewalk, lost his footing. He stumbled, and with a yelp, fell flat on his face, in a spectacle that old slapstick comedy couldn’t replicate._

 

_Owen stopped walking, staring at the boy lying on the ground, half on the sidewalk, half on the asphalt. The boy’s phone had fallen 3 meters away from him. Owen expected the boy to jump back up, and look around in embarrassment, hoping not to have been caught in such a blunder._

 

_Except he didn’t. The boy just laid there._

 

_Owen thought for a moment that the boy had died. He had literally bashed his head on the sidewalk and killed himself. He had done Owen's job, before Owen could even lay a hand on him. Damn, he wished more of his victims would go out like that._

 

_Except, after 5 whole minutes of not moving, he heard the boy groan. Then, slowly, the boy pushed himself into a kneeling position. His nose looked a little red, and angry. Sure enough, it began to drip blood._

_  
_ _Owen continued watching him, baffled._

 

_The boy drew a hand up to his nose, touching the pool of blood. He pulled away and stared at his hand. Then he smiled, and huffed out a short, breathy laugh._

 

_“Whoops!” The boy said, wiping his nose with the front of his shirt, staining the white uniform, red. “Guess this is going to keep happening today!” He laughed again, and stood._

 

_He walked towards his phone, bending down to pick it back up. And like nothing happened, not even the smallest shred of humility, the boy stuck his headphones back in his ears, and kept walking, blood still dripping down his face. Dangerously close to the curb again._

 

_Owen watched him walk away, head tilted to the left._

  
_  
“Holy shit! What the fuck?”_

 

Owen forces his eyes back onto Parker. He's staring at Owen in confusion now, wondering what the redhead had been thinking about.

 

Owen smirks, “You have shit taste in boys.”

 

That doesn’t land well with PJ.

 

Doesn’t matter, because soon Owen will be dead, and PJ will learn that his dumbass, little crush, is still alive.

 

Not that he’ll ever figure out why PJ would like someone as weird as that kid.

  
  
Whatever, Owen could really care less.

 

_“Heh. Bye, Parker.”_

 

\---

 

“I really like you. I don’t know how many times I can tell you, but since I can finally say it, I’ll keep saying it. I really, really like you Bastian.” PJ squeezes the older boy’s hands, smiling at him like he’s the best thing in the whole, wide world.

 

Bastian stares back at him, eyes wide, mouth slack. His palms feel clammy against Parker’s.

 

He blinks, and stumbles over his words, as he looks down at the space between them. “Are you--are you sure about that?”

 

PJ cocks his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

 

Bastian glances at their hands. His feels like they’re burning--like they’re on fire--and he wants to pull them away. He doesn’t understand it.

 

_He never understands it._

 

_He never understands anything._

 

His expression darkens, and his fingers uncurl from Parker’s. Now they’re just awkwardly suspended, PJ holding his hands, while his do nothing. “Are you sure you like me? Are you sure you _should_ like me?”

 

“What are you talking about Baz?”

 

Bastian’s mouth starts moving, Micah’s words coming back to him. _Davey’s words coming back to him._ “I’m an idiot Peej. You have to know that right? I’m a mess, all the time. I can’t handle shit at all, and like--I took you to a murder memorial on our first date?! What kind of idiot does that? _This idiot!_ You were going to be executed, because I didn’t keep an eye on you! I made a mess of everything! For you, and your family, and just everyone. I wasn’t there for you! I wasn’t there for you when you needed me to be! I couldn’t talk to you after Davey died, and I completely avoided you, afraid of what talking to you might mean. That I wouldn’t be able to help you through it; that I would only make it worse, for the both of us. And I’m--I still don’t think I’m here for you...the way you need me to be. I’m just, why would you want to be with me? How can you like me? Why? Why me? Are you absolutely certain that I’m good enough for you?”

 

Parker Jones looks at him for a long time. So long, that Bastian has to look away. His head hangs; he doesn’t need PJ to say anything, he knows exactly what PJ’s thinking. He's thinking that Bastian’s an idiot, an utter fool.

 

_This is nothing new._

 

Parker pulls his hands away. Bastian tries to pretend it doesn’t hurt. He closes his eyes, and sighs. He was the one who brought it up, he shouldn’t be so disappointed.

 

_So why does it suck so much, to be rejected?_

 

His eyes snap open when he feels Parker’s warm palms press against his cheeks. Parker lifts Bastian’s head to look at him, and he’s smiling, eyes shining with tears. Not sad tears, or angry tears, they’re tears that Bastian can’t describe. But they make his heart lurch in a way that scares him...in a good way.

 

“Yeah, Bastian, I'm sure.” And then PJ kisses him.

 

_Because no one will ever understand why PJ likes Bastian so much._

 

_Davey will never understand that before watching the show, Bastian had offered his candy to PJ, even though Bastian hates sharing food._

 

_Micah will never understand that one time, when Bastian bought him a comic of Miles Morales, just because he “saw it at the comic store, and you love Spiderman, so I thought you’d might like to check him out too.” That he gave PJ the comic during passing period, on a day like any other; that Bastian had remembered such a trivial, but important thing to PJ._

  
_  
Or that after Davey died, even when Bastian couldn’t talk to him, they would sometimes meet each other’s eyes, and though it hurt--clearly hurt to see each other-- Bastian smiled, and waved across the hall at PJ. Maybe it wasn’t enough to anyone else--certainly not Micah-- but it meant everything to PJ._

 

_Owen will never get that Bastian is far from shit taste. How could anyone who looks for him in the rain, who offers PJ his jacket, risking getting wet and cold, and catching sick, for PJ, be terrible? Who holds him through his panic, who walks him home, an arm comfortably, protectively around his shoulder the entire time. Who waits until he’s back in bed, tucked in, before leaving for home himself, even though it’s almost 1  a.m. Who comes over the next morning, making sure he’s still okay, after everything. Who takes him out on a date--flawed as it was-- and distracts PJ, for one blissful hour, from all the shit PJ has been dealing with. How could anyone like that ever be shitty?_

 

_No one will get that when PJ was 10, Davey, him, and Bastian went to the zoo. At one point, he got splashed, making it look like he wet himself. While Davey laughed his ass off, Bastian, not even thinking much about it, took off his sweater and handed it to PJ, saying he could tie it around himself until it dried. Then, after PJ had properly covered himself, Bastian took his arm, and dragged him around the stores, trying to find some new shorts to buy PJ. Even though it meant missing looking at the animals. Even though Davey complained the whole time (though it was just for show; Davey would be doing the same thing, if Bastian hadn't beaten him to it). Bastian just kept searching, unaware he was solidifying PJ’s affections._

 

_No one gets that when PJ had a nightmare when he was 11, Bastian had been coming back from getting a glass of water, returning to Davey's room. Instead of just walking away, going back to bed, ignoring PJ's muffled sobs, he had stopped, and knocked on PJ's door. He had come in, climbed to the top of the bunk bed, sat beside PJ, and rubbed his back until PJ had stopped crying. Made funny faces until PJ laughed. Gave him the rest of his water. Didn't leave until PJ said he was okay, that he didn't think he was going to have another nightmare. Completely unaware that PJ was falling in love._

 

_No one gets how hard Bastian tries. Tries so hard to be a good person, to be thoughtful, to be kind, to be smart, to be funny, to be serious. How hard Bastian works, even if it doesn’t go to plan. No one gets that Bastian is always giving it his all, even when it fails. Always getting back up, dusting the dirt off his pants, laughing through the pain that’s clearly trying to eat away at him. He makes an effort, more than anyone PJ has ever seen. He knows Bastian is not perfect; he doesn’t want perfect. PJ wants Bastian, because Bastian tries._

 

_Because Bastian tries harder than anyone._

 

Parker pulls away. Bastian’s eyes are wide, his cheeks quickly turning red as his mind plays catch up.

 

Bastian doesn’t know that PJ loves it when he smiles, when his whole face lights up, when even his eyes are sparkling with joy.

 

That PJ loves when Bastian sticks his tongue out in deep concentration, scratching his head with the pencil’s eraser, as he mulls over every problem.

 

That PJ loves his face when he’s asleep. His chest rising and falling, slowly, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. And that he’s still smiling, ever so softly, even in his dreams.

 

That PJ loves Bastian when he first wakes up. His eyes half lidded, his hair sticking up in odd angles, his mouth forming the smallest of pouts. When he’d rub his eyes, and flip Davey off for laughing at him, back when Davey was still there, when the two had sleepovers.

 

PJ loves that Bastian never excluded him. He always invited PJ to hang out with the two, always offering to do things with PJ, always listening to PJ’s problems, no matter how small or inconsequential, not because he was Davey’s brother, but because Bastian looked like he genuinely cared about PJ. That when he would pat the top of PJ’s head, it didn’t feel demeaning; Bastian didn’t make him feel like a child. He smiled and talked with PJ like he was one of his friends.

 

PJ loves that Bastian always made him feel like his friend.

 

PJ loves that Bastian made him feel okay, even when it wasn’t okay.

 

PJ loves that Bastian wants him to be okay right now, even though they both know he’s not.

 

And Bastian will never know, as he stares down at the floor, blushing brightly, his eyes sparkling with relief, and worry, and happiness, and fear-- _So, so much fear_ \-- and his lips twitch between a smile and a frown, that Bastian is the cutest, most wonderful person PJ has ever met.

 

He wants Bastian to be okay, even though right now, they both know he’s not.

 

_But they will be. Together._

 

And he doesn’t care what anyone else thinks.

 

“I’m a 100% certain that you’re good enough for me,” He says again, and pulls Bastian down for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> This Idea started as a comic concept. It was just supposed to be a funny little comic about everyone questioning PJ's feelings for Bastian, including Bastian himself. Like it really was all just a big joke/meme. I even had the idea of Bastian doing the "Lady trying to figure out an equation" expression. 
> 
> But I can't draw, and especially not that much, so I turned the idea into a story instead. And then I ended the last scene with PJ because even though it started as a silly idea, I thought about what PJ would say, and suddenly this dumb, silly idea, became a little more heartfelt.
> 
> Bastian is my favorite character of Jess's, and I adore PJ and Bastian's slow building relationship. I can't wait to see more. 
> 
> Jess and Elliot, if you're reading this, I hope you guys enjoy. It's late, and I need to edit this later, but I'm tired, so next time. Right now, I'm just very proud of my work. I always wanted to write a fic of these two. I never finished the first attempt, so I'm glad I was able to make a little something, short as it is.
> 
> Please enjoy everyone!


End file.
